Tag Archives: New Adult pararomance

Woot! A favorite novella of mine is now available in Audio at Amazon. Narrator Tom Jordan did a terrific job. He says Somewhere the Bells Ring is, ‘The most touching romantic ghost story since Demi Moore made pottery with Patrick Swayze.’

Somewhere the Bells Ring was an engrossing story to write, and yes, very moving. The old house in the story is based on the family homeplace in the Shenandoah Valley where my father grew up and that I often visited as a child. The story opens in 1968, an era I have a lot of nostalgia about, with time slips back to 1918 and the end of WWI.

Story Blurb:

Caught with pot in her dorm room, Bailey Randolph is exiled to a relative’s ancestral home in Virginia to straighten herself out. Banishment to Maple Hill is dismal, until a ghost appears requesting her help. Bailey is frightened but intrigued. Then her girlhood crush, Eric Burke, arrives and suddenly Maple Hill isn’t so bad.

To Eric, wounded in Vietnam, his military career shattered, this homecoming feels no less like exile. But when he finds Bailey at Maple Hill, her fairy-like beauty gives him reason to hope – until she tells him about the ghost haunting the house. Then he wonders if her one experiment with pot has made her crazy.

As Bailey and Eric draw closer, he agrees to help her find a long-forgotten Christmas gift the ghost wants. But will the magic of Christmas be enough to make Eric believe – in Bailey and the ghost – before the Christmas bells ring?

“An intriguing, gripping ghost story with a focus on romance rather than terror.” ~Reviewed by Stephanie E with Fallen Angels Reviews

Uncertain if she were dreaming or haunted, she gaped at the animated figures. Wait. There. Him.

Her attention riveted on one young man in the gathering. He’d spun by earlier. She’d swear he gazed over his shoulder in her direction, then promenaded up the hall. His expert steps returned him again to the entryway. Unlike the other dancers, he was fully corporeal. No partially seen legs or torso. Fitted blue breeches and silk stockings encased his long muscular legs. He wore his own chestnut brown hair pulled back in a queue at his neck, free of powder, while most male heads were wigged and white. The deep blue suit tailored to his tall figure complemented his deft steps in the English country dance.

Something about him held her spellbound…the tilt of his head, arch of his brow, glimpse of his profile… She followed his every move with the fixity of an owl.

He turned blue-gray eyes toward her and sensuous lips curved into a smile on his handsome face.

Hands down. No contest. He was the hottest guy ever. Her heart beat a thrilling new rhythm.

He circled closer to where she stood rooted in the foyer, not moving a toe, scarcely drawing breath.

Did he truly see her backed tremulously against the wall, or did it only feel that way?

Unlike the others in the ghostly assembly, his eyes didn’t skirt past her. He paused in the dance. Bending at the shoulders, he tipped his hand to her in a genteel flourish.

He’d freakin’ bowed. Her jaw dropped. He most definitely saw her. And she sure as heck saw him. A sparking sizzle jumped between them, awakening her as she’d never been roused before. Even more than when the house charged through her at her arrival. It was as if she were plugged in—to him.

How that could be, she had no idea, but when he gazed into her eyes, time seemed to stop. She spiraled into moonless stars, and back again to this dizzying realm. To him. Even if she were dreaming, she’d never forget this moment.

“Dance with me.” He beckoned to her.

“I don’t know how.” She forced the panted reply past the tightness in her throat.

He shook his head. “Nae, lady. You are grace itself.”

Gallant of him to say. “Clearly, you’ve never seen me play tennis.”

Humor flickered in his eyes and touched his mouth. “I should like to.” A look of urgency displaced the fleeting mirth. “Wait. Stay a moment,” he entreated.

Was she fading into dreamland, or was he?

Freeing himself from the others, he dashed to her and slipped something into her hand. “Keep this.” His voice a whisper in her ear. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

She eyed him incredulously. “But how—”

“Did I know you would be here?” he finished for her, melting tenderness in his gaze. “Because we have been here before.” He gestured at the doorway. “Danced through the foyer and into the garden.”

“What? When?”

He answered by cupping his hands to her face and pressing his warm lips to hers in a brief, but impassioned kiss. Any remaining breath she had was forfeited to him.

“Until we meet again, sweet lady.” He swept her a bow and was gone, and the others with him, like the mist vanishing in the sun streaming through the windows.

She stared after him, or the place he’d been, with her lips slightly parted. There were no words, only her wildly beating heart.

She shook her head to clear it, almost expecting the party—and him—to reappear. No. She was alone in the foyer. It was a dream. He was, too. Had to be. The most vivid, never-to-be-forgotten, dream ever. But she was awake, and when she glanced at her hand, she still held the scrap of paper.

Unfolding it, she mouthed, Wait for me, a simple request inked in penmanship that reflected the bold spirit of the young man who’d given it to her.

I’m excited to share more about Somewhere My Lady, my upcoming release from The Wild Rose Press, and my new Ladies in Time Series.

Each story in the series features strong young women who find romance amid adventure, mystery, and more than a touch of the paranormal. There’s also carefully researched history in the stories. I don’t toss my characters back in time without knowing the specifics of where they’re landing, and sometimes the history comes to them. A second title, The White Lady, will be out for the holidays as it has a Christmas theme, but back to book one. As usual with my time travel romances, the setting is a wonderful old home.

Somewhere My Lady blurb:

Lorna Randolph is hired for the summer at Harrison Hall in Virginia, where Revolutionary-War reenactors provide guided tours of the elegant old home. She doesn’t expect to receive a note and a kiss from the handsome young man who then vanishes into mist.

Harrison Hall itself has plans for Lorna – and for Hart Harrison, her momentary suitor and its 18th century heir. Past and present are bound by pledges of love, and modern science melds with old skills and history as Harrison Hall takes Lorna and Hart through time in a race to solve a mystery and save Hart’s life before the Midsummer Ball.~

Lovely cover by cover artist Debbie Taylor.

***Stay tuned for the release date (TBD but not long) and sign up on my blog for my email list. Who knows? I might even get a newsletter together and give something away. Or get my secretary to do it. Peaches and Cream are slackers. That’s what happens when you have cats for publicists.

From Beyond Her Book at Publisher’s Weekly

As I read Somewhere My Love, I recalled the feelings I experienced the first time I read Daphne DuMaurier’s Rebecca long ago. Using deliciously eerie elements similar to that gothic romance, Beth Tressel has captured the haunting dangers, thrilling suspense and innocent passions that evoke the same tingly anticipation and heartfelt romance I so enjoyed then, and still do now. ~ Joysann, Publishers Weekly (Beyond Her Book)